


Read All About It

by megyal



Category: Live Free or Die Hard (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-24
Updated: 2008-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-11 09:58:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/hard4brains/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/hard4brains/"><strong>hard4brains</strong></a>'s on-going July 4 Ficathon, (which I privately call the LIVE FREE SEXYFEST), using a prompt by <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/crownglass39/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/crownglass39/"><strong>crownglass39</strong></a>: <em>"God I love watching my come drip out of you." John and/or Matt discover new kinks that they had never even considered before.</em> All of the questions Matt asked are seen on <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/ask_a_cop/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/ask_a_cop/"><strong>ask_a_cop</strong></a>, one of the best places on LJ to... you know, ask a cop.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Read All About It

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/hard4brains/profile)[**hard4brains**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/hard4brains/)'s on-going July 4 Ficathon, (which I privately call the LIVE FREE SEXYFEST), using a prompt by [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/crownglass39/profile)[**crownglass39**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/crownglass39/): _"God I love watching my come drip out of you." John and/or Matt discover new kinks that they had never even considered before._ All of the questions Matt asked are seen on [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/ask_a_cop/profile)[**ask_a_cop**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/ask_a_cop/), one of the best places on LJ to... you know, ask a cop.

The hacker kid was driving him batshit insane. Seriously. John just wanted to turn off his annoying cell-phone, but he worried that maybe his kids or the captain would want to get in touch with him urgently, and Matt had some way of calling so that he wouldn't see his number show up on that little display. So he _had_ to answer, and Matt would have some weird question for John.

To be completely honest, John kind of liked it. He liked being called up for random things like that, instead of on emergencies or for people yelling at him for stupid shit, or wanting him to speak at some ceremony. When Matt called him and asked him stuff, it made him think about his job, and how much he really liked it. He still could pretend the kid was annoying, though, nobody was gonna tax him on _that_. Even though he passed by the kid's apartment a lot, on the pretext of making sure he kept out of trouble.

The questioning was strange, though.

For example, five minutes ago, it was this: "McClane, what happens after an undercover assignment? Like, generally?"

"What?" John had frowned at the whiteboard across the cramped office. "Are you still writing that fucking book?"

"Yeah, I told you I was doing that. And it's _another_ book. No, it's still not about the Fire Sale, keep your pants on."

John told him in general terms, still mystified over the fact that this kid was writing _a book_. More than one, and from all accounts, it wasn't even computer-based in nature. "I better get some kind of payment for this, Matt," he had said, only half-teasingly.

"Yeah, yeah. Oh, tell me another thing: Who does a detective really report to? A sergeant? Lieutenant? What?"

"Every department is different, kid," John sighed, pushing away the file he had been poring laboriously over. "Me, I report to a Captain."

"Thanks. And you're a Detective Lieutenant... Ok, that's good. Sweet, thanks."

"Wait, hang on a sec," John said before the kid could cut the connection. "You call me all the time and bug me about random cop information, and I don't get to see what you're writing?"

"You don't want to see it," Matt said quickly, the same fast, slightly embarrassed way he had answered the last time John had asked. "It's... you'd be bored. Totally bored out of your skull, you'd be like, 'oh man what is this kid doing', and then you'd probably break my whole ribcage for wasting your time, and we'd all lose. Trust me."

"Oh," John said before they made their goodbyes and hung up; he made it a point to get into his car after his shift and drive across town to the kid's nice apartment. It was like déjà vu when the kid opened to door with the security chain on, one brown eye widening at John's presence.

"Hey," was all John got out before the door was slammed right in his face. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, nice and slow; he really hated when people did that shit, got his temper all up and boiling, and he listened to the frantic rummaging inside the apartment with a specimen of exasperated amusement. The door flew all the way open again and John gave a flushed-looking Matt his best skeptical eyebrow.

"Hey!" Matt said with a false brightness that was grating. "Wow, McClane, it's really nice to see you! All the way over here! Randomly, on a Wednesday night!"

"Figured I'd drop in, see what you're up to, kid." John leaned on the frame of the doorway. "Am I allowed in now?"

"Yeah, sure! Uhhh. Yeah, come on in, sit anywhere you like. Anything to drink? I'll just get some coffee." Matt walked backwards to the kitchen with his eyes fixed on John, who made his way towards the living area with a casual stride. He stopped near the plush reclining armchair that he claimed as his own anytime he happened to be over here and then walked over to the sofa, strolling contemplatively along its length as if he was looking for the most comfortable place to sit. He looked innocently at Matt's direction as the kid pulled in a quick, nervous breath. He tilted his head questioningly and Matt gave him a ghastly smile, all teeth and nothing else. Then John made his way back over to his regular recliner and settled in, reaching forward for the remote.

"Thought you were getting some coffee," he said mildly, and Matt's expression was relieved.

"Yeah, I'll be right back." He darted into the kitchen, still talking. "I got some real nice cinnamon rolls from that new bakery, want to try one?"

"Sure," John called back in an even tone, even as he was lunging with a quiet, eerie grace over to the sofa, pulling up the cushions and sticking his hand underneath. "Yeah, I'd like one." He grinned as the side of his hand hit against something solid and he grabbed it, pulling out a paperback book. There was a black-and-white photo of a man's lightly muscled torso... no, wait, there were _two_ naked men, pressed against each other in a shadowed pose. Frowning, John looked at the title and the name of the author: _Beggers Would Ride_, by Hack Johnson.

'Hack'. Ha, ha.

He sat back down in the recliner and flipped open to the page which usually had all those fancy dedications, and frowned even more at the single line he saw there: _to the real O'Riley; if wishes were horses..._

John opened to the middle of the book, and if he had a hairline, his eyebrows would have been way past it by now.

> _"Don't move," Jake growled, and the man beneath him shuddered, trying to catch his breath; but he remained still. Jake waited a few beats, and then drew back to sit on his heels. He was pretty cold, dressed only in his boxers and a thin white t-shirt, and he was pissed that some asshole decided to break into his house in the middle of the fucking night. _
> 
> He got to his feet, and poked the interloper in the ribs with one bare foot. "Get up."
> 
> Instead of getting up, the man rolled over and looked up at Jake with an accusing expression. Jake stared down at him, lips growing tight.
> 
> "You said I could come over if I needed any help," Luke said in a wet-sounding voice, rain-water still dripping from the limp brown hair onto Jake's worn carpets. "You're a fucking liar, O'Riley."
> 
> "What, you never heard of a doorbell?" Jake stuck out his hand and made an annoyed grunt when Luke stared at it with frank suspicion. He reached down further and grabbed onto a thin arm, hauling him to his feet. "Or a phone call?"
> 
> Luke shrugged. "I'm kind of a common burglar at heart," he said, a small smile appearing beneath his still-frightened eyes. "I like to do things the old-fashioned way."
> 
> Jake's mouth remained tight, until he let out a sigh after a long moment. "You hungry? I got some chop suey still in the fridge."
> 
> Luke opened his mouth after a moment, and then gave a hopeful little smile. "Yeah. I could eat some chop suey."

John closed the book and looked at the back of it, for a picture of the author, or maybe one of those little blurbs explaining where the author came from, but the only thing that was there was a line saying that this was the author's first erotic novel. He frowned, hearing Matt's constant chatter still wafting from the kitchen, and opened it again to a page near the end.

> _"That's it," Jake breathed as the kid moaned beneath him _(and at the phrase 'the kid', John's fingers clenched the edges of the book, because what the hell?),_ wandering hands stroking down the muscular plane of Jake's back. "You feel good, Luke."_
> 
> Luke grunted as Jake pulled out his cock, just a little way, and slid back in, slow and sure. His mouth was parted and Jake kissed it as he thrust, feeling Luke clench around him, warm and tight. Good, sweet sex, and the way Luke's body arched under him, sweat slicking their bodies, his legs wrapped tightly around; Luke's lips and hands everywhere while he made those breathless moans, that made it a million times better.
> 
> Jake's hips moved faster, angling up and trying to catch that spot again, that spot that made Luke shake and beg, and he grinned when he got it right a couple of times, Luke's eyes half-shut as he jerked with pleasure. Damn, he wasn't going to last long with Luke looking up at him like that. He bent his head and took a brown nipple between his teeth, flicking his tongue against the ripe nub of it and Luke's hands were clawing down his back desperately at the sensation, fuck, the kid was gonna leave a whole bunch of marks on him like that.
> 
> He actually kind of liked the idea. Like battle-scars, only he had fought for Luke and won.
> 
> "Come for me," he whispered hoarsely, and Luke moaned in desperation.
> 
> "I- I'm not-"
> 
> "Come," he commanded and Luke just let go, his arms slung tightly around Jake's neck as he pressed his forehead against Jake's and cried out, long stripes of warm come pumping out of him and onto that flat stomach. Jake gritted his teeth against the sensation of Luke clenching all around him, and he buried his face in that inviting curve of neck and shoulder, held on tight and felt his body stutter out of control.
> 
> His whole weight was on the kid for a long while, and he thought he might be crushing the kid; but Luke made a soft noise of complaint as he detangled himself slowly, pulling away from those reaching, clever fingers and sliding out of Luke's body. He sat back on his haunches, ignoring the twinge of pain in his lower back (that's what you get for fucking around with someone half your age, he told himself with dry amusement) and grasped Luke's legs, pushing them up and open, eyeing the furled entrance of his ass as Luke breathed quickly, fingers twitching on the messy surface of his bed. Their_ bed now, if Jake had his way, and Jake was the kind of guy who liked to have his way a lot._
> 
> "God, I love watching my come drip out of you," he whispered, eyes fixed on the way the glistening liquid really slid out, probably helped along by Luke, who was looking down at him with a sated, dopey smile. Jake glanced up at this expression, and then returned his rapt gaze to Luke's ass even as he moved his hands down, pressing Luke's legs up to his chest, almost folding him in half, but Jake just wanted to see what it was like, to press his tongue against that crinkled, winking hole.

John jumped as he heard a great crash and turned his head to look at Matt's shocked face. They stared at each other for a long time, the white cups of coffee shattered on floor, hot brown liquid staining the dark wood even darker. Matt's eyes were huge as John got up slowly, the book held in one hand.

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but for once, nothing came out, and he simply closed it again, pressing his lips together again. John just kept looking at him, wondering what he was supposed to feel. He guessed he had the right to be fighting mad, and the kid knew it, from the way he flinched, just a little, when John made a slight turn towards him; yet, Matt stood his ground, holding the tray that he had been carrying their coffee in front of his chest like a shield, eyes still wide and wary.

"Anything you want to tell me, Matt?" John finally asked softly, holding up the book and giving it a little shake. Matt's eyes flicked to it, rapidly.

"I guess you already know what you need to know," he managed to answer.

John let out a long exhalation of air. "Okay, kid," he replied simply and headed for the exit.

"McClane. _John_," Matt said as he pulled open the door and John turned back to him with a questioning tilt of his head. Matt took a deep breath. "I want to say I'm sorry... but I'm not. Okay, not for _writing_ it, I mean, I'm getting paid for it, that's the really weird part, only in a cool way, it's funny how much people like reading stuff I actually write, I'm not sorry for that, but I'm _really_ sorry if I've... hurt you. Offended you. I'm sorry." He wound down his quick spiel with a resigned slump of his shoulders.

John didn't want to talk to him right now. He was feeling too fucking confused, and he didn't _like_ being confused, who the hell did? So he just opened the door without a word and closed it quietly as he left.

* * *

John, who actually liked reading books, he just could never find the time, finished _Beggars Would Ride_ in about a week, catching a free half-hour here or there. Wasn't bad; it had a lot of violence in it, and a whole lot of sex, which was really interesting, because it was very _detailed_ sex, the kind that suggested a lot of research or experience or fantasizing or all of the above. It wasn't anything deep, but it was fun, although sometimes John wanted to kick Detective Jake O'Riley in the fucking nuts for being so goddamned _stubborn_.

After that thought, he chuckled at himself.

He called Matt on his cell-phone as he sat on his bed in his boxers, and got voicemail for his troubles. He then had to rustle up Lucy to get Matt's home number, which he didn't have, for some strange reason. He could always get the kid on his cell-phone, and he'd never had any reason to call him on the apartment phone, anyway.

"Luce," he asked, just before Lucy managed to hang up on him in her irritable way after giving him the number. "You ever read _Beggars Would Ride_?"

"Ever read it?" Lucy scoffed sleepily, and John had a very clear image of her squinty-eyed expression. "Daddy, I was the damned spell-checker on that. Wait. Ah crap, how'd you find out?"

"Why'd you hide that from me?"

"Because Matt is an idiot. He thought you'd hate it, and I _told_ him you wouldn't have a problem, but he had some bad experience in college and just didn't want to get into that again. I told him, 'you think my dad is an asshole or something?', but, yeah, you are an asshole, just not _that_ kind of asshole--"

"I get it," John cut in, wondering when Lucy had picked up Matt's mode of crazy-talk. "I'm an asshole, yeah, yeah."

"Ok, Daddy," Lucy agreed. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Sure, pumpkin," he said in a warm, indulgent tone, because she sounded just like a five-year-old again, cranky and endearing. She huffed over the line and hung up; John dialed the kid's number.

"Hello?" Matt sounded distracted, rapid tapping sounds filtering to John. He was typing something, and typing fast; John smiled.

"Working on your next book, kid?" John said in a low voice, and the tapping sounds ceased immediately. "If you'd have told me during that Fire Sale that you were some kind of writer, I'd never have believed it."

"I have a healthy imagination, I thought you knew that," Matt muttered, and there was a shuffling noise; he was probably sitting with his laptop in bed, tucked in neat under the sheets. Once or twice, when John went to his apartment to check up on him, Matt would be in bed with the laptop in with him, as if it was sleeping too. John had thought it was cute; strange and nerdy, but cute. "So, uh. Still mad at me?"

"I wasn't mad, kid," John admitted gruffly. "Just felt a little strange. That's all."

"Oh." That one word was carried on an exhalation of relief from Matt, and John wanted to pull the phone away from his head, because it was as if Matt was breathing right in his ear, slow and needy, and it was excruciatingly arousing.

"I was wondering when you'd call me for more cop information," John continued, keeping the phone to his head and feeling his way through this. It was strange being so cautious about something, but John thought it might be worth it.

"Oh, I... I didn't know I still could."

"Yeah, you can. Another thing. Who've you been asking about the other stuff, kid?"

"What?" Matt was frowning, his brow wrinkled, John could tell. "What other stuff?"

"The _sex_, Matt." John dropped his voice to a soft, raspy murmur. "Where'd you get all that from?"

"You," Matt said in a dream-like voice, as if John had hypnotized him. He cleared his throat. "I mean, I watched a lot of stuff, but when I thought about it, um, whenever I was writing... it was _you_. Nobody else. I haven't been with anyone since college, McClane. And you've kinda spoiled me for anyone else."

That soft statement curled right around John's cock, pulling it taut and hot. He slid a hand down between his legs, rubbing the heel of his hand against down the hard line. "How about you bring what you're writing," he suggested silkily, and it didn't sound bad, he didn't know he could do silky so well, "and I can tell you if you're getting it right or not."

"Okay," Matt said promptly, and then gave a little embarrassed laugh at the eager tone of it. "Um. Give me half an hour."

He was there in fifteen.

John made sure he was laying quite innocently on his bed, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he reclined against the pillows, one leg crossed casually over the other. He was in his boxers, _Beggars Would Ride_ opened to one of his favourite parts (where O'Riley and an empty train had some sort of on-track confrontation; the train lost), and peered at the kid when he pushed open the door, his bag slung over his shoulder.

"I used the key that you gave me," Matt said faintly, staring at John's stomach even as he held up the keys. He was looking at John as if he'd been at the brink of starvation and John was an All-You-Can-Eat buffet. John stretched a little, experimentally, and Matt's gaze became even more rapt. Had he always looked at John this way? John had a feeling that he did.

"Get over here," John said gruffly. O'Riley liked to give Luke orders in bed, but _only_ in bed; otherwise, Luke was a smart-ass with a smart mouth and a smarter attitude. Sounded pretty familiar to John.

Matt trotted over obediently, putting his bag down on a worn armchair in the corner. "No, bring it, bring your laptop," John said quickly, pulling off his glasses and placing them on the night-table, beside his glass of water. "I want to see."

Matt stopped, gave him a long, measuring stare, and then stuck his hand in the bag and brought the laptop out, approaching to on John's side of the bed to sit down. He opened it slowly, revealing the computer coming out of hibernation, some documents open against an interesting red and black background. John sat up, looking right over the kid's shoulder.

"_'Luke breathed slowly, wondering what O'Riley was up to'_," John read in a low voice, turning his head slightly so that he could murmur in the kid's ear. "_'He felt the bed dip and a warm, wet tongue stroked at his ear and down the side of his neck_\--" John punctuated this with the same movement, slowly, so the kid could have time to know if he actually wanted it or not. Matt didn't move away, he simply tilted his head in an inviting move so that John could trace an inquisitive damp line along his skin, pulling away the neck of the blue t-shirt just a little, so that he could continue across his collarbone. He placed a kiss there, and then raised his head, trying to find where he had last read. He didn't, so he found something else.

"Hmm... '_Jake's mouth closed around his cock, and Luke tried to yank his arms down from where they were securely tied over his head; Jake had made some efficient knot in the cloth, and no matter how Luke plucked at it, he couldn't pull it, couldn't move his hands down to grab at something, maybe Jake's head as Jake curled his tongue around his aching dick..._" you like that, Matt?" he muttered, raising one hand to place on Matt's upper arm. He was surprised to find it was very tense and he ran his hand up and down that rigid arm almost without thought, instinctively trying to give comfort.

"Yeah," Matt said, after a short pause, his arm relaxing under John's touch; John realized he was nervous. This savvy kid, with his laptop and huge brain and expressive brown eyes, he was _nervous_. John amended his designation of cute to adorable. "If it's you, yeah. I'd love it."

"Good. I'm gonna go find a tie or something. When I get back, you better be on this bed, clothes all gone. With your eyes closed."

Matt let out a sharp breath, and John slid off the bed, getting up. The kid stood up too, and John stepped in the direction of his closet, and then turned back, catching the kid in the middle of pulling off his t-shirt. It was halfway over his head, arms yanking the material up and John grabbed onto him when it was off completely, one arm going around that narrow waist, hand splayed against the small of his back, hot against the cool skin there. His other hand grasped at Matt's chin, tilting it to the side so that he could place a kiss, slow and soft, against the corner of that full mouth. Matt sighed, and John turned his face a little on the other side, placing a kiss there before moving to his forehead. That one was a long press of lips and what was it about a kiss to the forehead that was so calming and sweet? Because when he pulled back, Matt's expression wasn't pensive anymore, it was open and hopeful and warm.

Matt leaned forward, and John felt their mouths barely brush; he smiled and parted his lips, letting Matt kiss at the pace he wanted, until Matt's fingers tickled up his arms and held onto his shoulders. He pressed their hips together and Matt moaned quietly against his mouth, fingers curling almost painfully into John's skin as their cocks lined up hard together, separated by unnecessary layers of clothing.

"Get naked," John said hoarsely as he pulled his head away from Matt's deepening kisses, drug-like in their intensity. Matt nodded, watching John hungrily as he backed away, searching behind him for one of the folding doors to his closet. John turned to sparse rack of ties he owned, just inside the door, taking his time in picking out a couple of them. He could see movement out of the corner of his eye and when he turned back into the room, Matt was sprawled on his bed; he looked fucking _perfect_ there.

"_Fuck_," he breathed and Matt, who had one arm flung over his eyes, blushed. John could see it, pale skin reddening at his cheeks and down his neck. John held onto his ties and shucked off his boxers unceremoniously, balls bouncing with each step, balls pointing to his desired target. Matt shifted, and John was over there in a second, grasping onto those long slim legs and pushing them up so that he could settle between them, muttering, "don't open your eyes, kid, don't you even _think_ about it," as he grabbed Matt's wrists and leaned forward to loop one of the ties around them, securing them to one of the slats in the headboard.

"Too tight?" he asked when Matt pulled his hands forward, testing the knots.

Matt shook his head. "No, John. They're cool."

John just had to kiss him then, because he had said _John_ in that low, aching tone and he was just lying there, willingly, trusting John with whatever he wanted to do. John kissed him, deep and hard, feeling his dick leak in anticipation, just as Matt's was doing, slicking the two of them with pre-come. Matt was writhing underneath him and panting harshly when John bent to take a nipple in his mouth, his hips rocking insistently so that John could feel every vein of his cock pressed against his own. John tossed the other tie away; he had wanted to cover Matt's eyes with it, but fuck that, he _needed_ his hands, one to curl around the both of them and _stroke_, the other to anchor to one of Matt's hips.

Matt grunted, "Oh god, this is so--" and whatever it was remained lodged behind a low groan as John released their dicks and slid down Matt's body quickly, biting the kid gently in that crease of leg and crotch, the musky smell of him filling John's nostrils. He'd done this before; sucking cock was part of his sexual repertoire, from before he was married. Just something he had fooled around with, couple of times. Not a big deal in the scheme of things, although Holly had been a little surprised at what he could do with his mouth at the right places.

"For such a hard man," she had commented once, "you got yourself a real loving mouth," and John pushed her smirking voice quite firmly out of his mind, because the low keening moans coming from Matt were amazing. John held down Matt's restlessly moving hips, concentrating on curling his tongue around the flared head of Matt's cock just _so_, moving his head up and down with his lips clamped tightly around the rigid shaft like _that_, fondling the furred weight of his balls until Matt was reduced to desperate pleading.

"John, John," he was saying in a strangled manner," Please, you gotta... just... oh shit, oh help, please, please, I'm, I'm, you gotta _move_ if, oh," and he came right in John's mouth, just the way John wanted him to, his body jerking helplessly with every bitter spurt, toes curling against the quilt as he tried to pull away from John's insistent mouth. "_John_," he moaned when John swallowed and finally released him, opening his eyes to watch feverishly as John knelt back, grabbing onto his own cock and jerking roughly.

"I want to," he said breathlessly, twisting his wrists in the tie. "John, let me go, I want to."

"You watch, Matt," John told him gruffly, because it wasn't going to take long anyway, not with the kid literally chafing to get to him, using his feet unfairly to rub on the tops of John's thighs, sneaking his toes to press against John's balls, smiling as John groaned and lunged forward, one elbow planted right next to Matt's head as he hovered over Matt and between his legs, those strong, slim legs that John would soon have wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked Matt in the stillness of the early morning, deep and slow, he'd have it, he _had_ to have it, but right now he pressed his face into the crook of Matt's neck and came against Matt's stomach, feeling the kid start as the first hot spatter struck his skin.

"_Yes_," Matt hissed and turned his face to catch John's mouth in another kiss, this one hot and full of want. John's jaw was feeling a lot stiff, but the kiss was sweet from whatever the kid had been drinking on his way over, bitter from his own come. John pulled his bound wrists with fumbling, sticky fingers that the kid grabbed onto as soon as his hands were free, yanking them to his mouth and licking them. John watched him, cock twitching weakly.

"Now you got more stuff to write about, Hack," he finally managed to say, flopping onto the bed and pulling Matt close; Matt twisted around for a little bit, trying to find a comfortable position, until they were securely entwined around each other.

"Yeah, I got some stuff down. But I think I need more information. Like, soon," he mumbled against John's neck, and was almost fully asleep before John could make a helpful list of stuff he'd need to know. John held him tighter, grinned as he caught sight of the book on his night-table and relaxed his hold just a little as Matt shifted a little in drowsy complaint.

_Sure, Hack_, he thought. _Real soon. _

Fin


End file.
